Try and Fail
by thecrazystorywriter14
Summary: Being the sly fox he is, Nick Wilde tricks Judy Hopps into staying with her. This leads to devestating consequences, trying and trying, and failing. But sometimes trying can lead to success. And an accident leaves Judy devastated, with Nick on her side. And conquering their journey stays at the top of the list - forever.
1. Try

**Chapter 1 - Try**

The air of the cold, barren landscape turns off any warm-climate mammal. Any cars passing through this town blast their heaters full power and try to maintain control on the icy roads. Any cold-climate mammals wandering around this town wear light jackets and hold warm liquids in a coffee cup in their paws. Vapor rises from their mouths as they let large breaths from their mouths, spreading the moist environment in their mouths into the air. Clouds crowd the sky, and a barely conspicuous light erupts through that barrier.

On a street in this frigid town, the perceptible noise of the puttering of an engine gradually increases as the source patrols the street. The engine belongs to a police cruiser belonging to the largest police force in the city – the Zootopia Police Department. Two figures, barely visible behind the dark windows of this police cruiser, have significant height differences. The taller mammal, with large, triangular ears and a long snout, operates the vehicle. The other figure, with long, gradually widening ears, faces the window and gradually scans the landscape.

"Wow, look at the frost in here," the taller mammal mutters, looking out the window of their police cruiser, the cold landscape of Tundratown surrounding him and his partner. He rubs the window covered in a layer of condensate. "Bogo seriously needs to rethink patrol locations. There's nobody here."

The partner does not look at him. She looks up at the window and smears the window herself. Her eyes dart to the slender mammal beside her. "Looks to me like someone didn't bring a jacket."

Holding one hand to the wheel, his other paw enters his blue pants pocket. For a moment, he glances at a nearby house. He smirks as he looks at her. "I'm sorry, the cold froze my eardrums. Did you just say, 'Nick, please shove me out the door?' " With his smirk still remaining, he pulls his paw from his pocket, holding it out and thrusting lightly in the air to imitate pushing her.

She lets out a humorous snort. "It also appears to me like you would really appreciate the air conditioning – granted, if we were actually _had_ air conditioning," she fumbles with the controls on the control panel. "Nope."

He frowns, still looking out the window. He wipes the condensate from the window again, slightly wetting his fingertip. He rubs his paws together and grips the steering wheel as he slowly lowers his foot on the gas pedal. As they turn the corner, the communicator on the dash lights up. Hopps scrambles for it and hovers it below her mouth.

"This is WildeHopps, over."

"Wait a minute," Wilde asks, glancing at his partner with widened eyes. "Carrots, did you just call us–"

"Ohh-kay," the communicator interrupts. "I've got something exciting for you. Reports of a recent crime have just come in, and we're putting our trust in you to take a crack at it. For now, we need you guys to gather a few reports. We've sent you the addresses."

"10-4, over." Officer Hopps sets down the communicator, glancing at Nick. "Nick? Did you say something?"

"Why exactly did you call us WildeHopps?"

"Us? Well, Nick, you've been here a while, so – well, I gave it some thought – and I realized we haven't come up with a name for us as a duo."

"Carrots, that's crazy. For one, WildeHopps sounds like a marriage announcement. Two, nobody does that. Three, you'd better find that in a thesaurus because that's literally the worst word I've ever heard."

"Why do you want to throw it away? It's awesome."

"It may be awesome, but it throws my anonymity away. I'd prefer if we used something like Vehicle 1212 or something."

"You're terrible," Hopps says, her phone active in her hand. "This is it. The closest house to the crime spot."

After parking, Officer Wilde opens the door, momentarily forgetting about the cold. When he steps out, the freezing temperature penetrates him and makes a chill travel quickly travel down his spine, and it disperses throughout his whole body. He shivers, and the sound from his teeth chattering echoes across the small neighborhood.

Judy can't help but smile as she looks over her half-frozen partner. "Guess that's why we don't call you an arctic fox. I at least thought you were adapt to some cold." she looks at him again, then slowly walks up to the fox. She wraps her arms around his very narrow body and snuggles her head into his abdomen.

His eyes widen and he places his paws on her shoulders. "Carrots..." Judy giggles and squeezes him tighter. "I... need... air..." he pulls her from his abdomen and takes in a deep breath. He gives her a menacing stare, pulls the waistline of his shirt downward, then wipes his shirt with his paws and stuffs his paws in his pockets. He swiftly walks forward when she scrambles to his side.

"Hey! Why didn't you let me do that?"

"Do what?" He shoves both paws into his pockets with a smug smirk on his face.

"Gee, I don't know," she rolls her eyes. "It was obviously apparent that I just wanted to hug you."

"Next time, warn me. I swear you were going savage or something." Again, approaching the house, he outpaces her again. She scrambles up to his side, pacing faster and faster until halting at the front door. "Officer Hopps," he says, gesturing to the door. She glances at him again, who has a similar smug smirk.

Despite the clouds blocking the sun overhead, Nick dons his sunglasses as she taps the door lightly with her knuckles, while Nick clasps both paws behind his back. His stance becomes erect, and he holds his head upward toward the gigantic door.

The door opens, slowly, and a polar bear many times their height looks down at them firmly. "What do you two need?" he asks, his voice sounding impatient and cross.

"Sir," Judy says patiently, "I'm Judy Hopps, ZPD. I don't want to cause you any trouble, but we have multiple reports of a crime that occurred in this area."

"So what? It's not like I can't handle a couple dorks throwing snowballs at each other," he opens the door slightly wider than before, then pulls up the sleeve on his right bicep, revealing a large gash from the elbow to the shoulder. "See this?"

Nick slowly doffs his sunglasses, revealing a pair of widened eyes. "Who did _that_?"

"Good question," he pulls the sleeve back down. "Got 'er from a knife fight two weeks ago. If you're wonderin' what happened to him, he ain't comin' back. It didn't hurt – nuh-uh. Not one bit. You know what? If I can hurt him, I can sure hurt you guys too. Now, leave or I'll do the very same thing to you. I don't want a police report."

"Sir," Judy looks up at him again. "We're not trying to anger you, but I think threatening a police officer, with certain restrictions, is a Class 2 felony. If you don't know, that's kind of a crime."

His eyes widen. "Felony? Uh, no, no, no. I'm sorry I did that–"

She laughs. "Just let us in. We'll have to keep that instance, just to let you know."

"Keep it?" His eyes widen. "Please, no. I don't want that. Can you just do something else? Here," he digs into his pocket. "I'll give you anything – really – if you just don't do that. I don't want my name anywhere on the files."

"Sir, it's ZPD policy. I can't just do that. It's way too complicated to ignore it. I'm sorry, but a crime's a crime."

"When you put it that way," he pulls out a pistol and points it to the floor. "Now. I don't want to use this – really, I don't – but if you don't let it slide, I'll have to make this situation worse."

"Carrots," Nick whispers, tapping her slightly. "Bad, bad idea. Just do what he wants!"

Judy looks at him again. "You sweet talk him. Maybe you can convince him to put the gun down."

Nick looks at the floor, sighing. He looks up at the polar bear. "Sir, don't you know what you're doing by holding that gun? You're holding a ticket to jail, buddy. You can either put the gun away and get a Class 2 felony or shoot and kill both of us, get a Class 3 murder, and stay in jail your entire life. Think of all the time you'd be spending free instead of dwelling in some metal room."

The polar bear shoves the pistol back into his pocket, opening the door slightly. The two officers file in.

Upon entrance to the house, a white box set upon the right wall shows a 45 with a small circle to the right of the upmost horizontal line of the 5. Nick taps Judy on the shoulder. "Carrots," he whispers, gesturing to the box. Judy's eyes widen as she paces the floor toward the polar bear. The television in the front room has minor frost smeared on it, and three cups covered in condensate sit on end tables around the room. Strolling through the house, Nick frantically glances his eyes around the room, shoving his eyes in his pockets. He loosens his lips and clenches his teeth.

With a firm frown, the polar bear falls into his leather recliner. Judy gestures to a nearby couch and she and her partner sit. "So – what am I supposed to call you?"

"Officer Hopps, sir."

He shakes his head. "I already know you," he points at Wilde. "You. What's your name?"

"Officer Wilde." Nick grasps both paws together on his lap to hide his trembling paws.

The polar bear nods firmly and looks at them. "Ron. I'm a mechanic nut and whatever. Can we just get this over with?"

Judy nods and pulls out her clipboard and carrot pen. "Okay, Ron. I have a couple questions for you. First," she traces her carrot pen down the paper, "let me see here – have you seen any suspicious activity in the area outside your home?" She looks up at the polar bear.

Rick nods slowly. "Yeah, a guy was mugging another one around 10 last night."

Judy scribbles down the information, then passes the clipboard and paper to Nick, bumping his elbow. Nick rubs it and takes the clipboard, then looks at the information. Nick clears his throat and glances at the paper. "Since you saw the guy who did this, did you see his clothing? What was he wearing?" As he looks up, he runs his fingertips over his elbow.

Rick closes his eyes tightly and frowns. "A little," he opens his eyes and raises his fingers into a 'perfect' sign with a slight gap between his thumb and index finger. "He looked around four feet tall, had a black baseball hat and some dark blue jeans. It kinda looked like he had a knife of some sort."

Judy smiles as Nick takes the pen off the paper. She does another short nod at him, and he gapes his mouth, giving her a look of 'are you serious?'. Judy nods again and he glances down at the paper. "Next question: were you involved in or committed any act of violence in the past twenty-four hours?"

"Of course. I told you at the door, remember?"

"I'm just doin' my job," Nick says, scanning over the paper again before shoving it to Judy and standing up.

Judy flashes him a vexatious stare. and stands up, clipboard in hand. Her smile returns. "Thanks for your time. We will call you if we find an accurate match."

Rick leads them out the door. "Uh, don't do that. I kinda want to protect my anonymity. I'm sure glad that's over with." He shuts the door, leaving them in the cold once again. The temperature had decreased dramatically, due to a blizzard starting up, and the two quickly retreat to their cruiser.

"Nice going," Judy says, putting a paw on the seat partition. Are you planning to do that four more times?"

"Do what?"

"You know what. You didn't want to help with the interview."

"Hey – I wasn't the one injuring you with the clipboard. Oh – wait. That wasn't the worst part. It's okay because it's not every day you _almost get us killed!"_

"That was an accident. You know I'm not Mr. Sweet Talk like you," she rolls her eyes and looks at the clipboard again. "Four more. The next house is just up ahead."

"Well, good. Can't wait to get an early day off."

" _If_ we do." She brings the engine to life and inches the car forward.

After four more reports, the two exit the last house. The cold lets up a little bit, but the temperatures are still frigid. Nick now walks quickly to the car, along with Judy, whose paw is already on the door handle. She rips it open and Nick does the same. They close their doors and glance at one another. "Are we done?" Nick asks, tapping his fingers on the door handle.

She nods. "Yep. We turn these in and might get to go home."

He smirks. "Good. About time."

She shoves the key into the ignition, again, and the engine sputters to life and then dies.

She holds up her paws, then twists the key again. The engine starts, stays on for a little longer than before, then shuts off. She puts her head to the steering wheel. Nick sighs and glances out the window. "We'll never get this done at this rate. Now we'll have to get backup over here, then ride home in the huge cruisers. I hate the seatbelts on those things."

"Hey, at least it's better than walking home."

"Or walking on four legs like our ancestors. They walked around naked wherever they wanted back then – prancing around on four legs," he imitates it with two paws, "and marking their territories with a simple lift of the leg. That would be the life."

"Nick, stop it," she giggles, tapping her head on the steering wheel. "I shouldn't be laughing, but I am. All I'm wondering is why you said that in the first place," she giggles again. "Oh, man. What is wrong with me?"

"It's probably because you're off duty," he looks out the window. "Without that backup, I doubt that we'll ever get back home."

"Yeah... but I've got an idea. Stay here," she steps out and opens the hood. She inspects the engine, looking at it in confusion. Nick, who was once staring at his phone, now opens the door and looks out to his confused friend. He stands from his place and walks up to where she stands. "Carrots, if I was going to check the temperature of a frozen car – which I never have – I would touch the engine to see if it's cold or not," he touches the top of the engine with the knuckles of his right paw, then takes it off quickly. "Looks like your engine's frozen, so your battery doesn't work. We'll have to jump-start the battery and see what that does."

She frowns, her arms crossing her chest. "That's the problem – it might not start. We both are not trained in mechanics. There was that little mechanics class we both took, but I don't think it covered a frozen battery." She walks over to the door, and Nick mirrors her actions. They both shut their doors to conserve heat.

"Mechanics..." his face remains apathetic until a smile gradually appears.

"Yeah, I don't think we could do it." She twists the key again, and the engine fails to start again.

"No," he puts a finger on her lips. "Sh-sh-sh. We just met with a mechanic nut."

"What do you mean?" She stops from attempting to start the car.

"Ron! If we go up to him–"

"–he'll help us?" She wears a similar smile to his.

"Exactly! However, I really don't think that he'll ever want to help us after what I just did."

She remains, pondering until her ears perk up. "Wait a minute. Don't you remember what he said?"

"Who? Ron?"

"Yeah. Don't you remember how he acted when we gave him a Class 2 felony for threatening?"

"Yeah – I do. If you hadn't given him that felony, you'd think he'd actually help somebody."

"That's it, Nick! Have you read the ZPD enforcement code book?"

"Have I read the ZPD enforcement code book? Why? The thing's like two-thousand pages long!"

"Right there, in the glove compartment, is a copy. Give it to me please."

He smirks and produces a copy of the book, setting it on the seat partition. Judy turns it to herself and turns to the middle of the book. "Section 150, code 123 states that any felony below a class 2 can be eradicated from the record books if – let me see here – 'the felon is willing to pay a one-hundred-thousand-dollar fine or assist a law enforcement officer in malfunctioned property, such as vehicles, equipment, or weapons. If the latter is chosen, the felon must completely repair the officer's property, alongside paying a fine of twenty-five-thousand-dollars within two months to omit the record of the felony in question.' "

She looks up at Nick's seat. No evidence of his existence appears visible within the car. Judy looks around the car, calling his name. Nothing. She reaches for her phone when 'Try Everything' emits from it. She looks at the screen. "I guess it's technically not a personal call..." she picks it up and holds it to her ear. "Where are you?"

"Don't worry, Carrots," he gasps, panting, "I'm up the hill. I guess you can tell that I haven't worked out for a while."

"Well, I know what you're up to. You know what you're supposed to say?"

"Carrots, I am more articulate than you, and you're asking what I'm supposed to say?"

"Hey, I didn't take public speaking in high school."

"Neither did I. I told you, Carrots – it's natural. Now, do you want to get home?"

"I guess – but I thought I was going to do it."

"I couldn't risk you going out there."

"You're too nice, Nick."

"See you in a minute, Carrots." He hangs up.

Nick returns about five minutes later with the polar bear carrying a strange device with two cables connected to it. Nick walks to the hood of the car, completely exhausted, and looks through the driver's side window, connecting the cables to the car under Rick's instruction. As he does this, he gestures to the driver's side door. "I need you to start the engine on my word and lightly press on the gas pedal. Make sure it's on neutral."

She climbs into the driver's seat, looking out the window. Nick does a short thumbs up, and she shifts it to neutral and starts the engine. It sputters and starts up, then shuts down once again. Nick walks slowly over to her, knocking on the window. Judy opens the door and looks him in the eyes. "We got to wait a minute while it warms up," Nick fumbles with his fingers, then plants his forearms, an inch after the elbow, palm side down, onto the window frame. "When I tell you to do it again, do the same thing," he gestures towards the gas pedals, "and make sure it's on neutral." A short moment later, Nick instructs her to do it again, and this time the car starts successfully. They let it run on the strange contraption's power, then unhook it, say goodbye to Rick and watch him stroll away happily as they sit in the cold interior of the vehicle.

"What exactly was that thing? It sure wasn't a car." Judy asks, glancing at engine temperature.

Nick smiles. "If you didn't know yet, he invented that thing. He just isn't rich enough to buy a patent for it. It is a portable replacement for a car to help jump-start it. Too bad he's going to be even more in debt than he already is."

She nods, glancing down for a second at the buttons below the radio controls. She rolls her eyes and touches a few buttons. "Hey, didn't you know! The air conditioning _does_ work!" He spots Nick's satisfied smile as he adjusts the heat to his face.

"What was wrong with it?"

"It appears that somebody kept the heat function turned off. Anyway, speaking of Ron." She shifts the car to drive and turns around completely.

Nick looks at her. "Is it just me, or are we not supposed to go this way?"

Judy smiles. "I'm going to go the other way in a minute. It's just that I had a major last-minute revelation before we leave." She continues forward and stops a minute later in front of a blue house.

"Um, isn't this Rick's house?" Nick asks, looking towards their destination.

She laughs. "Yep," she steps out of the car and Nick follows. "And don't worry – I left the heater on a little so the car doesn't freeze again." Nick gives her a confused stare while they approach the door. Judy taps on the door and it opens again.

The door opens and Rick appears. "Oh, hey, guys. Do you both need something? Did the car stop working again?"

Judy shakes her head. "No, it's fine. But, sir, I'd like to give you something," she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a neat stack of dollar bills. "You were a great help. Really. Take this as a token of our appreciation."

Rick looks at her slowly. "Wait. Why? I don't need this. Use it for yourself." he places both paws on the door, moving it slowly closed. Besides, I was an officer in the ZPD many moons ago. I know the ZPD codebook like the back of my hand. Officers aren't allowed to give perpetrators money."

"You may be a perpetrator, but you're also a former police officer. According to Section 200, Code 43, a police officer can grant a police officer – or former officer – money to support them." She shakes her head and holds it out further. "Please."

Rick pushes the door open wider and takes the money from her outstretched hand. He looks through it and his eyes widen. "This is two thousand dollars."

Nick's eyes almost pop out of his skull. "Two th-" Judy elbows him in the ribs and he almost bites his tongue. He gives her a menacing glance and looks ahead again.

"Use it for your patent," she smiles, putting her paws behind her back. "Or something else you want."

"I can't really use it for my perpetrator side, so I'll keep it to my patent. But, are you absolutely sure you want me to have this?"

She nods. "I wanted to be generous. Besides, it's hard to get a patent nowadays."

Rick smiles. "Thanks. Really. You know what? If I become a millionaire because of this invention, I'll give you half of what I earn. Have a wonderful day, Ms. Hopps."

She smiles. "You too." The door shuts.

The two walk back to their car, and she shuts the door, Nick following. She starts it up, and Nick speaks after she backs out. "Why would you do that?"

She smiles. "I like helping other people. Besides, our apartment costs got cut in half. I have more money than I can spend. Might as well use it on other people."

A short drive to the police station later, the two deliver their reports to the police station. Sitting on a bench overlooking the street in front of the station, Judy looks up at the sun as it begins to travel down to the horizon. She looks at the clustering traffic ahead of her, and she turns around to a loudening panting approaching. She squints at the figure approaching, then she smiles ear-to-ear and she waves her paw in the air. "Nick!"

The fox puts his paw on the backrest of the bench and takes a deep breath, still taking large gulps of air. "Hey."

She frowns, inspecting him. "Where were you this whole time?"

He shrugs. "I got – caught up talking with Wolfard," he smiles and switches the subject simultaneously. "My apartment rent doubled yesterday, so I had to shut it down temporarily this morning before you picked me up," he frowns. "Do you mind if I stay with you tonight? I'll just have to grab a few things from my room."

"Why not?" she lets out a short squeal, and he looks at her in confusion.

"Did you do that?"

"What? No. That was probably a bu – tire or something. Anyway, sit down and we'll be at my place in a little bit."

Shortly, after a couple stops, the duo arrives at the occupied lot of the Grand Pangolin Arms Apartment Complex. The shabby, well-built building stands tall and awaits the partners' entrance. Judy leads Nick into the lobby, up the elevator, and into the hall. Nick inspects the hall, running his finger on the wall for a second.

The wall is rectangular-shaped, tall, and long. Only the left wall contains apartments; the only places on the right are vending machines and ice dispensers, along with guest bathrooms on the far end of the right wall. The carpet of the hall is copper-colored and thin, permitting Nick to hold his foot straight up and run his toes through the carpet. He sticks both paws in his pockets, silently locating his friend standing at the door. Judy shoves the key into the lock and twists it, pushing her way into the room with one paw, the other holding a full, white grocery bag.

The room, dark without illumination, remains still and quiet. The window, on the opposite wall from the door, stays behind a black curtain. A neatly made bed remains still on the far left side of the rectangular room. A table, supporting a digital clock and multiple notepads, sits across from the bed, leaving an aisle between the two furniture. Another clock sits on a low end table next to the bed.

"Okay, so this is where you'll be staying." She instructs Nick to set his luggage down and for him to sit on the bed next to her. He pushes off the floor and plants himself on the bedsheets, where his legs hang slightly off the floor. Judy places the bag next to her and looks at him.

"How long do you think you'll need to stay?" she asks.

He grins. "Are all rabbits this desperate to get rid of foxes, or is just you?" She looks at him for a moment, playfully punching his shoulder. He rubs it and looks at her again.

"Seriously," Judy says sympathetically, "how long are you staying?"

"Probably until I can afford my apartment again."

She nods. "You can stay as long as you need."

A question puzzles her, and she motivates herself to ask it. "If you can't afford when your apartment rent doubles, nor can you afford a car, how do you keep up with your phone plan?"

He smiles without looking at her. "Carrots, that's the reason why I can't afford the car or the high rent. My phone plan is $120 a month – and that's just for infinite data and communication. I almost forgot – my phone in and of itself costs about a thousand dollars. Plus, I haven't gotten any bonuses since that one a week ago. Finnick's got access to my bank account, so the money I've earned through hustling is almost gone. My first paycheck from the force is almost gone too."

Her eyes widen and her ears fall behind her head. "Nick, thank you for telling me," she places her paw on his arm, and digs through her pocket with her free paw and produces another stack of bills. "Here."

Without looking, he holds his paw up. "And don't even think about giving me money. You need it more than me, Carrots."

"Why not?"

"Because, Carrots. I don't want your money. Finnick's gonna steal it anyway."

"Can't you set up a separate account?"

"No, then he'll get suspicious and try to find me. He expects me to fulfill his gambling career."

Judy shakes her head. "C'mon, Nick. Can I at least give you something? Don't you know that you can do something about Finnick?"

"Yes, I know I can do something about him. But if I do? He'll never forgive me. Even if he gets a simple ticket, he'll never let me forget it," he looks down at the floor. "Carrots? Remember that story I told you on the gondolas that one day?"

"Yeah. The one with the scout incident?"

"That's the one. I forgot to tell you that something else happened after that incident."

"What?"

His face falls into an apathetic look, and he glances at the floor. "Carrots, I met Finnick that same day. He wanted to adopt me."

"Adopt you? Why?"

"I don't know. At the time, he seemed so kind and sympathetic, I couldn't think. I let him adopt me, nevertheless. I never saw my mom after that," he closes his eyes. "My mom died two weeks later..." he blinks a couple times, eyes still fixed on the floor.

Judy, who now can't help let out a couple tears, places her paw on his back. "How about your d-dad?"

"He left. I'm a single kid, Carrots. I hated him. All he did was yell at me. That's why I wanted to join the Junior Ranger Scouts. I wanted to get away from my dad as much as possible. Now, I'm grown and have no parents except Finnick. If I get rid of him..."

"You'll lose your last known memory of a parent?"

"Exactly. If I get rid of Finnick, he'll be mad at me. I don't want two people to be mad at me, let alone one."

"Can't you just take the money?"

He shakes his head. "No, Carrots. We're getting paid next week. I also applied for government relief last week."

Her eyes wet with tears. "I want to help, but you don't want to. Please? You're a really important person in my life, and I want to help you."

Below his paws, his eyes widen. _Important?_ Nick looks up at her. "Carrots – it's been years since I've heard someone say that I'm important to them. But still," He shakes his head. "No is no, Carrots. That money is _yours_. I can't let you give it to me until I can find a way to save my money without attracting suspicion."

"Nick?" He looks up at her voice. Judy smirks and holds her paws up to him. "C'mere, big guy. Give me a hug."

Without a second thought, he leans his head on her shoulder. She rubs the back of him with her paw, and he lets out a sigh onto her shoulder. "You're gonna be okay, Nick. No matter where we go, I'm here to protect you. That's why I wanted to be a police officer – I wanted to make the world a better place – and still do today – even if it involves solving issues, one person at a time."

He pulls out of her hug, looking at her with red eyes. "Oh, Carrots. Thanks for that. I don't know what came over me then – I'm usually strong. But something about you – it reminds me of my mom."

"How so?"

"I don't know. Maybe it was her kindness, her motivation – her love. Even when my dad yelled at her, she didn't get mad. That's probably where I got that from. But you – Carrots, you're like another mom to me. I don't know if that's a good thing or not."

"Of course it is!" she looks at him again. "If I remind you of your mom, then you sure as heck can stay here forever if you feel like it. If that's what makes you feel any better, then stay here as long as you'd like."

He nods, smiling. He then looks at the clock on the table and rubs his stomach. "When'd we have lunch? I don't know about you, but I'm pretty hungry right now."

"That's why we bought the food," she pulls the bag between her and Nick.

As the two chow down on the vegetarian-friendly dinner, Nick looks up at the closet, which has no doors and showcases the internal tools and clothes. "I really wish I could afford something like this. The apartment I have back home is way smaller."

She nods and looks up at him. "About the money you need – I think I have a solution."

"And what is that?"

"Well – it's not really a solution – but you could set up two accounts, and you could add some money to the other account so you don't get Finnick suspicious."

"Alright, look," Nick sets down the fork on the plate in his left paw. "Set up two accounts? Why? Then I'll have to pay for another. Plus, Finnick's gonna still get suspicious. He expects a certain amount a month to come in. It's 3/4 of my monthly paycheck for _this_ job."

Judy glances up at him, shrugging off the suggestion. She slaps her fork onto the plate and gently disposes of it. "When you're done, how about we do something to take your mind off the money?"

He shrugs, also disposing of his plate. "Sure. What do you have in mind?"

The two mammals settle down for a nice movie connected to her laptop and then decide to retire after. Judy retrieves a pillow and two blankets and sets them on the ground, where Nick refuses her generous offer of sleeping in her bed. Judy climbs into her bed, looking over at Nick, whose eyelids remain shut over his eyes.

She rolls to her side and ponders her day: The reports, her car breaking down, and Nick asking her if he could stay the night. Then, the shocking story. The story and his money problem. If only she could help him out. She had tried, but he was too concerned about her.

Had telling him he was important too soon? A friend is someone who has a shoulder to cry on. He'd literally cried on his shoulder, and she'd helped him rejuvenate.

As he sleeps on the floor, she feels lonelier than before. Feeling as if all her relatives move, leaving her alone. Sitting up in the bed, she takes out a handheld flashlight, scribbling a short sentence onto the sticky note. She sticks it to the wall beside the bed, turning off the flashlight and lying back down onto the mattress.

Suddenly, she feels like she isn't in the present. She feels like she is traveling in time, going into the future. She can feel herself, in the future, helping him. Or something helping him. She felt herself crying in the future, which almost made her cry. Something happy – or sad – happening. She knows she will make good, friendly relations with him.

But she wanted more. She wanted a more romantic relationship. But being romantic with a fox was unheard of. Having a romantic relationship – even a marriage – with a fox was crazier than any jackpot that Pawerball could even produce. But part of her knows it isn't right. If she tries to be romantic, he might reject her. If she didn't try, she'd feel rejected by herself.

But she has to try.

She is a trier, after all. It worked with the motivation to join the police force. Now, she wants to try something to risk devastating consequences, ones with irreversible effects. Ones that can ruin everything – even their simple relationship as friends.

But trying is part of her nature. Her grandfather was a trier. He was a major swimmer in the big swimming competitions, a major inventor of one of the most incredible inventions known to rabbitkind, and a role model for her. If her grandfather married somebody, so would she. Her grandfather married the craziest rabbits she'd ever met, but he still got along well with her.

Why? Because he tried. If her grandfather loved her grandmother, then her grandfather would do nothing else but to marry her. The same with herself. She felt a connection with Nick – and she would do nothing else but see what happens if she tries. Tries to get him to notice her.

 **Hello, guys, CrazyWriter here. This first chapter's edits concluded on July 31, 2017, and released on the respective date. This is the second edition of Try and Fail, and will be completely revamped within two months, or by October 1, 2017, but may finish before or after the respective date. No further chapter of Try and Fail will release until the editing concludes. Other chapters of Little Moments and A Savage Battle will release as editing proceeds on this story but will be delayed due to editing on this story. Thank you.**


	2. Change

**Chapter 2 - Change**

As the sun peeks above the horizon, illuminating the landscape in front of it, warmth intercepts the cool breeze of the night. The light of this gigantic star beams through the small apartment window, not conspicuous among the other high buildings in that region. Judy sits on her bed, awake, watching Nick's relaxed chest balloon and shrink with each participating breath. She switches her eyes from the sunset, then again stares at her best friend slumbering on the makeshift bed.

Seven-o-clock came and went, and then Judy again glances at the clock - 7:32. She lies about a foot from him, wondering when her day would soon begin - as soon as her friend wakes from his torpor.

Finally, after a moment, a heavy groan arises from him. He opens his eyes and blinks, then turns his head to face her, still lying down. "Good morning, Carrots," he says softly, a yawn interrupting his greeting. He stretches his arms above his head, then sits up on his homemade bed, crossing his legs so that his right ankle lies over his left.

The way he sits – with a black shirt and with a pair of grey sweatpants on – and the look of his baggy eyes and ruffled hair makes her smile internally. She quickly pushes the thought away, but her mind replaces it with another incessant thought. Having trouble admitting it to herself, she pushes the thought away.

"How'd you sleep?"

He yawns again, scratching the back of his arm. "Pretty good." He gradually stands from his spot on the floor, staggering over to his suitcase and fumbling his uniform in both hands as he retreats to the bathroom to change.

He exits a few minutes later, finding Judy sitting on the bed eating a donut. He sits next to her, looking at the snack in her paw. He smiles and extends one of his arms. "You get one for me?" He laughs awkwardly, following the gaze of Judy's outstretched finger, pointing at a donut and a coffee. Nodding, he collects his breakfast, moving the donut to his mouth, noticing her already in uniform. "Looks like someone took advantage of time." He takes a generous bite of his donut.

She smiles. "Is that a backhanded compliment?"

"You're your own judge." The food in his mouth muffles the words exiting. As he bites into his donut, again Judy runs her paws up through the fur atop his head. He hovers his paws above his head. "Carrots - what are you doing?"

"Looks like someone didn't comb his hair or brush his teeth."

His eyes widen. "How did you -"

"I may not be Mr. Articulate like you, but I can definitely tell you haven't. Obviously, as I can see, you haven't combed your hair. I know you didn't brush your teeth because I didn't hear it from the bathroom, and it wouldn't make sense to do that anyway," she says, gesturing toward his donut. "Imagine how disgusting coffee would taste after brushing your teeth."

"Everyone has hygienic problems, Carrots. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it," he takes another bite of donut and sip of his coffee. "Now, I'm just going to savor the moment."

Finishing the morning routine, the partners scramble to their police cruiser. Judy looks over at Nick, smiling. She reaches over to him and brushes a portion of his uniform. "Got a bit of donut there. I really wasn't thinking I'd say that anytime soon."

A casual drive later the two arrive and park; then walk into the station. It smells of the usual donuts and coffee consumed by the staff, and an occasional conversation now and then, echoing throughout the inside of the station replay the same conversation, blending into the other indistinct conversations. Clawhauser sits at the desk, slowly consuming donuts. He smiles and Nick and Judy approach him, setting down his donut. "Good morning, guys."

Judy smiles, and Nick does the same. He nods and walks slowly away as Judy continues to quickly chat with Clawhauser. After a moment, she politely leaves her conversation and walks toward Nick, tapping him lightly on the back of the arm.

He turns his head to her and grins lightly. "Hey again, Carrots," he pauses. "I just got word that my apartment's price grew overnight. You wouldn't mind allowing me to stay a little longer, would you?"

An ear-to-ear grin spreads across her face. "Sure." Her response is not as heartfelt as her imagination – she imagines him being with her the next two months.

He looks at her, his eyebrow slowly rising to the point of almost receding onto his scalp. "Carrots? Earth to Carrots..."

Her smile fades and she pops back into reality. "Oh, sorry. Daydreaming right there," she says, chuckling awkwardly.

His eyebrows fluctuate, and his paws curl into fists and he places them on the top of his hips. He stands for a minute, examining her. He shrugs and moves his hands to his side, face relaxing. "C'mon, Carrots," he gestures to the bullpen, slowly heading that direction.

She follows him into the crowded room, the familiar scent of donuts and coffee increasing. Nick likes the smell, and it reminds him of the bakery he'd gone to before he met Judy. He joins Judy on the large chair, eyeing her, who looks ahead at Bogo, who he never noticed enter the room. Despite her gestures, his head still faces her.

"Wilde," he calls, and Nick looks at him. "I need you to focus. If you want to stare at somebody, stare at _me_."

Nick nods quickly, showing an awkward smile, and he can feel his cheeks redden beneath his fur. Judy, who notices his embarrassment, quickly raises her hand.

Bogo sighs, placing his tiny reading glasses on the bridge of his nose, and looks at her. "Yes, Hopps?"

"You mind if Nick and I be excused for a minute?"

He hesitates, filing through the thick stack of papers attached to the clipboard in hand. "No. Sit down. I don't have time for nonsense."

"Sir, this isn't -"

"Don't care. Sit."

Judy rolls her eyes and plops down on the chair, just as Bogo speaks. "Alright, everybody. Shut it!"

Silence.

"We have two items on the docket," Bogo pounds the clipboard with his finger. "First, I'd like to acknowledge that there will be a cookout next Monday. Seven PM sharp. Don't miss it. Next-" he flips a page over the clip on the clipboard, "- we have received reports of incessant squealing coming from a densely populated part of town, a half mile from here. This, along with the case we have not solved since last week, are both a high priority," he steps from the podium, "Grizolli, Fangmeyer, Delgato - investigate the squealing," he holds out a folder, which a well-built tiger takes from his grasp. "Wilde, Hopps, you will be investigating the suspicious noises in Savannah Central."

Judy receives the file from Bogo, opens it quickly, scans the page, nodding as she closes it. She stands after the chief concludes the assignment distribution.

"Chief?" Bogo looks back quickly, again donning his glasses. Judy walks up and fiddles with her hand. "You told Nick to sit down, and he got embarrassed for a reason. I think he's tired. Do you mind just, I don't know, toning down the anger just a bit? He normally doesn't have these anomalies."

The chief frowns. "That's his problem, Hopps. Tell him to get to bed earlier." He turns back to the open door, walks through, and shuts the door behind him.

 **Grand Pangolin Arms Apartment Complex (GPAAC), 5:11 PM**

Nick sits before the four-pane window, running his fingers through a deck of cards in his paw. The blue, cloudless sky contains no visible sun. He picks out several cards and slaps them down on the windowsill, messily organizing them, then collecting them back into a pile and inserting them back into his main pile in his paw. He sets the pile down as neatly as possible down onto the windowsill. He gathers his uniform, before strewn in the corner of the room, and attempts to fold his pants.

Judy holds her paw out to him, grasping the waistline of the pants, folding the garment successfully, and delivers the garment to his paws. Nick manages a smile and sets the garment down on the nearby desk. He paws his shirt and holds it up to her. "So, Carrots, I've taught you a couple things before. I think it's time you help me with something."

"Why not?" Judy walks over to her dresser and holds up a pink, long-sleeved shirt. "I'll show you how to do it," she lies it flat on the bed. "Bring the arms in, fold it in half, like a book. Then, grab the lowest part and fold it over all of it. If you want, you can fold it over again."

"OK," he smooths his uniform, buttoning the buttons one by one. "So, I bring the arms in, then fold it over like a book?"

"Yep," she watches him closely. "Now, you fold – nope, not like that," her paws intervene, fixing his error in folding. "Like that. Now, you fold–"

"–From the bottom and over the rest, right?"

"Yes, that's right. Yours is a little big, so fold – actually, don't fold yet. Do you have your tie?"

He nods and places his tie next to the shirt. "Okay," Judy takes the tie, folds it, and places it into the middle of the shirt, running straight up the line where the buttons connect. "Now, you fold it." Nick folds the shirt up from the bottom, and he lifts it up from underneath.

"Look at you, Nick! You just did that!" Judy yells in appreciation.

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"When you're getting ready tomorrow, I'll teach you to iron."

"Carrots, I don't know why, but it's such a weird feeling. Normally, I know a lot, and now, you're teaching me things. They're the simplest things, but I've never learned them. It's great to have you do that, I gotta give you that. There's probably a few other things you could teach me – like cooking, for example."

"We'll see about that. Maybe we can squeeze in a few minutes at the station – there's a kitchen there." She smirks and paws the playing cards in her paws, which she had taken from the windowsill. "I can't play cards. How about you teach me how to play?"

"I got those from my great uncle. He's known as Mr. Speedy because of how fast he could deal," he takes the cards from her and moves the table from the corner of the room. Judy walks over to him with a chair in paw and places it on the end of the table facing the far wall. Nick deals the cards to her and himself and she sits. "However, I'm not Mr. Speedy," he finishes dealing the cards within a minute. "Okay, I only know one game, and I shouldn't say the name, but fortunately, when I played the game for my first time – I was probably ten or eleven – he called it 'Up'. The name stuck, and I've called it that ever since."

As Nick silently prepares his own cards, Judy mirrors his actions, and Nick begins to speak as she mirrors him. "Four cards face down – don't look at them. Then you place four of them face up – yes, you can look at those – on top of the facedown cards.

"Feel free to replace the face-up cards with the highest value in your hand. Now, pick three cards at random to use as your hand, then put the rest of the cards face-down in a pile next to your eight cards. This pile will be your deck."

"What do we do now?"

"Well, I'm going to place down a card," he places a 3 of hearts. "Now, with the three cards in your hand, find one bigger than the one I placed down, in this case, it is a three of hearts. If there isn't, see if you have a two or a ten – those count as wild cards – and if you don't, pick out of your pile there," he points to his own pile next to the eight cards, "and wait until you get a two, ten, or a number higher than the card I placed down," he points to the 3 of hearts on the table. "Also, make sure you always have three in your hand at all times. Pick up from your pile, and then when you run out you play the four cards you placed face up, then play roulette with the ones you placed down. You try."

Judy studies the three of hearts, then places a four. "Great, Carrots," Nick congratulates. "Now I place a higher card," he places a Jack. "See that? You can either play a two, ten, queen, king, or ace. See?"

"Yeah," she places an ace, and Nick sighs, gathering up the small pile. "If you don't have a card higher or equal to the one I placed down, or a two or a ten, then you pick up the whole pile."

Twenty minutes later, Judy places her paw on her last facedown card. "Okay, this is it. A giant pile in front of me, and if this isn't higher than a Jack, or a two or a ten, then I get the whole pile, right?"

"Yep. Now, let's see." Below, he has a facedown card and a card facing up atop the facedown card.

Judy pulls the card up to herself, sighs, then pulls her hand over the top of the large pile of cards. Her face curves into an expression of disappointment. A grin starts to spread across Nick's face, then fades into apprehension as a smile appears on Judy's face, and she slaps a ten down on the large pile. Nick leans his head backward, smiling at Judy's ability to overawe him. He examines his facedown card. "Oh, I would've lost anyway. I had a jack as my face-up and a three as my face-down. You did great, Carrots."

"Well, thanks. It was beginner's luck, really."

"I'm sorry to disagree with you, Carrots, but the way you played was impressive. You seemed like an old hand instead of a novice. You beat me, the grand-nephew of Mr. Speedy, the greatest card player I've known. If he was still alive, I bet you'd beat him in the first few tries."

She smirks. "Well, you want to get pizza for us? Or, how about a fancy restaurant or something?"

He raises his eyebrows, curving his mouth down. "Carrots, you know I c-"

She interrupts him. "I was kidding. I'm just as fine with a pizza at Zominos."

His slight face of displeasure fades. "Your choice. I'm fine with it."

"So, who's getting it?" She says, eyes widening as she watches him stand.

He smiles. "I can get it. It's just I haven't driven in what?" He taps his chin. "Ten years?"

She laughs. "You drove yesterday. Wasn't that your first time driving in a while, though?"

He shakes his head. "Yes, that was," he takes out his wallet and shows her his license. "I may look young, but it doesn't expire for a while."

She didn't focus on the date. She looks at his picture, Nick in his early twenties with the fur on the top of his head neatly combed back, wearing a nice red tie neatly tucked into the collar of a clean, done up white shirt. Her eyes then trace to the date, which expires two years from the current year. "'A while,' huh?"

He laughs. Two years isn't that bad," he frowns. "Do you want pizza or not?"

She moves her head back from his wallet. "Sorry. Go ahead. Don't crash."

He laughs. "I'll be okay, Carrots."

Twenty minutes later he arrives back with a box in his hands, knocking on Judy's door.

"Who is it?" She says from inside.

"The mayor," he smiles. "Who do you think it is?"

Judy laughs lightly and opens the door. "Hello again. My guess is you didn't crash since you came back in one piece."

"Sure, I guess you could say that. I'm not the best driver in the world, but I'm still alive."

"That's good," she says. "Do you want to eat now?"

"Sure."

After devouring the meal in ten minutes, Nick sits on her bed. "That was good."

"Good," she says, picking up his plate he had left on the nightstand and disposing of it, sitting next to him. "At least you enjoyed it."

"Well," he says, picking up his phone and quickly looking at it. "It's 6:10. Do you want to watch a movie, or play spin the bottle..."

She looks at him, squinting. "What?"

"I was kidding, Carrots. We can watch a movie, or go downstairs and hang out, go to bed... there are countless things we can do."

"Well, I'm not going to bed at six. I guess we can go out for ice cream or something. I'll pay."

He nods. "There's one across the street from here. We can walk."

Judy paws her keys and reaches for the door, but Nick beats her to it and gestures outside. "Go ahead, Carrots," Nick says playfully while she rolls her eyes and exits. Nick walks after her, and after she locks the door they descend in the elevator to the first floor.

Outside, Nick shoves both paws in his pockets and looks about the street. He had seen this street many times since Finnick had driven him through many of the streets of Zootopia before he became a police officer. The sun, to his left, is about fifteen degrees from the horizon. Despite this fact, the cool air from the surrounding ocean penetrates his fur. He tries to refrain from shivering, but the urge to shiver overpowers his ability to resist, and Judy happens to look over at him the same moment he shivers.

Immediately Judy frowns, looking at her friend. "You're cold?"

"It's just the ocean, Carrots. The sun's still out," he says, his paws and arms weaved across his chest.

"We can go back and get your coat if you want," she turns toward the building. She produces her keys from her pocket.

"No, no, no. You're not wearing a coat either. Besides, it's a short walk."

"Are you sure-"

"Yes, Carrots. I'm fine."

"Okay. You will get a little bit colder after we eat, though."

"Which is understandable."

Judy rolls her eyes as they continue down the cracked sidewalk toward the ice cream parlor, being surprisingly silent. After a moment, they walk through the doors of the olden-style ice-cream parlor, decorated with antique paraphernalia. Various scents, especially those of caramel, chocolate, and mint, linger in the air. The line leading up to the counter is little, only a pig standing in this line. Nick and Judy stand behind her as Nick produces his wallet.

"Wait. I said I would pay-" Judy begins.

"Up-up-up-up," he says quickly, putting his finger to her mouth. "I'm paying, and that's final."

Judy sighs, putting her wallet back into her pocket. The pig steps off to the side and Nick looks at Judy. "What do you feel like?"

"Vanilla with caramel and chocolate sprinkles, with a maraschino cherry on top."

Nick repeats her statement to the cashier, but a call from her uncle prohibits her from attending to the rest of Nick's order, so she assumes he had ordered two different sundaes because she knows he prefers chocolate or strawberry ice cream. She watches Nick closely after he pays and steps off to the side, waiting. Shortly after Judy finishes her call he leads Judy to a table with two chairs and sits.

The waiter walks up with one bowl in paw and sets it down on the table. Judy looks at it in confusion. "You only got one?"

"Good examining, Hopps. Now see how many spoons there are."

She examines it quickly. "Two."

"Now put the information together, and make an inference."

"Since you got one sundae and this sundae has two spoons, we are both sharing this. But I thought you hate vanilla."

"It sure isn't my favorite, but it's okay. I'll eat it. Now, let's eat," he picks up one of the spoons and takes a bite of it.

She does the same. "Good."

He stands on his second bite. "I gotta go to the bathroom," he says, the spoon still in his hand, full of his third bite of ice cream.

He walks right past her, looking the other way and deliberately tipping his spoon right above her head. The cold sweet falls directly between her two stalky ears.

"Oh, c'mon," she says, not looking at him. "Was that really necessary? Go get some napkins."

She expects a dry, rough, papery material to touch her fur. Instead, a wet, muscle-like organ wipes across the top of her scalp.

It took a moment, but she recognizes the feeling. "Eww! Did you just lick the top of my head?"

He nods at her enraged, but playful eyes. "Yes. I was too lazy to get napkins."

She rolls her eyes. "C'mon. You know how immature that is."

"Compared to you, yes."

She laughs as she turns her head away, back to the ice cream. "So, are you actually going to the bathroom?"

He sits down. "Let's just say that it was worth spilling ice cream on your head."

After finishing their meal, they return home to the apartment and Judy flops onto the bed. "I'm bored."

He ignores her. "Want to hear a joke? What do you call a cow lying down?"

She rolls her eyes. "What?"

"Ground beef."

With a smile, she shakes her head. "Oh, Nick. I don't know if that joke was degrading or innocent."

"It's your judgment."

She smiles and rolls her eyes. "Anyway, what do you want to do?"

He smiles. "The joke really didn't impress you," he puts his finger to his chin for a moment, then shoves his hands to his side in exhaustion. "I've got nothing."

"Well, we might as well just get to bed, then."

He shrugs. "Alright," he says, bending down next to her. Her eyes shrink in confusion before Nick plants a kiss on her cheek. "Goodnight."

Incredulous, she blushes. She jumps onto her bed, joyful. "Goodnight. Thanks."

She lies in her bed, wondering about him. He'd paid for their ice cream when she had said she would, he'd driven to get the food when she volunteered, and he kissed her on the cheek. He bought the food and the ice cream out of his own wallet after he only had two-hundred-and-something odd dollars in his bank account.

 _He's changing. He admires me,_ she thought. _He admires me and doesn't want to lose my trust. That's why he's acting so strange._ He didn't suddenly have a personality change.

 _He loves me._

 _And I'm gonna find a way to love him back._

 **Hello, guys, CrazyWriter here. I thank anybody who has read this chapter. The next chapter will be written within the time period of one day and two months from the time the previous chapter is written. If you want to give me suggestions, please do so, and anybody who also wants to ask me a question, wants me to add something to this current chapter, wants to suggest something for a future chapter, please PM me or send me an email (address is in my profile) and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Any constructive criticism is appreciated, but please try to avoid flares, as they will not be tolerated and will be immediately removed/reported. Thank you for your cooperation.**


	3. Gift

**Chapter 3 - Gift**

The next morning arrives quickly. Judy sits up from her bed and looks at Nick, again in deep slumber on her floor. She smiles at him, and wonders what it would be like to sleep next to him.

She decides to try it after a minute of pondering: she jumps from her bed and walks over to where Nick sleeps. She falls to her back and lays on the ground next to him, but refrains from hugging him.

She lay for a moment, trying to find sleep, but it refuses to arrive. She gives up and stands from where she had laid, beginning to walk back to her bed.

She stops halfway to look at his tail, which was sticking out of the blanket he sleeps in.

She didn't just look at it, though. She touched it.

Soft. Fluffy.

She grins and sits on the ground, taking his tail between her two paws. She rubbed his tail between her paws for about ten minutes. Shortly after he sat up, very quickly.

She jumps. "Nick," Judy yells with fright, "You scared the living daylight out of me!"

He laughs. "If I so called 'scared the living daylight out of you,' you'd be unconscious right now," he returns to noticing Judy still rubbing his tail between her hands, but is fed up enough to ask her to stop. "Okay, Carrots, I think that's enough tail-hugging for today."

She releases his tail and smiles. "Did you like it?"

He furrows his eyebrows. "Like what?"

"Your tail massage."

He smiles lightly. "Sure. It woke me up, but I liked it, sure."

She smiles back at him. "It's Saturday."

"I know," he laughs. "I know what we can do, if you have nothing to do."

"What?" She looks at him.

He pauses. "Let's go somewhere. I know exactly."

"After we get dressed," she looks at them both. "We can't really go to the place you are talking about if we're in pajamas."

"Right."

Shortly after getting dressed, the two depart from the apartment building, Nick at the wheel for his second time after ten years.

A building named Jack's Music comes into view and Nick turns into the parking lot.

"Music?" Judy says, studying the building.

"Yep. Here's one thing I'll tell you: you'll learn a little more about me today."

"Okay?" Judy says with uncertainty in her voice, following him into the building. They go up to the front desk, and a fox about Nick's height and with similar features walked up to the counter.

"Nick," the fox greets, shaking his hand. "Nice to see ya again. Anyhow," he points to Judy. "Who's this?"

Nick places his paw on her shoulder. "A friend of mine. Name's-"

"Judy Hopps," she says.

"Well, its nice to meet ya, too." Jack shakes her hand. "How can I help ya two?"

Nick nods. "Can you get me my.." he leans close to Jack's ear and whispers something, which was inaudible to Judy.

"Ah," Jack says. "That." He walks away into the back room.

Judy looks at her friend. "Jack must be a pretty good friend."

Nick smiles. "Much more than a friend. He's my brother."

Judy gasps. "Really? His name's Jack Wilde?"

"Yep. Pure blood. You didn't know that?"

She shakes her head as Jack walks back into the room, carrying a large, wooden shiny acoustic guitar in his right paw.

Judy's eyes widen at the sight. "What's this?"

Nick smiles as he takes the guitar from Jack's hand. "My guitar. I leave it here because Jack takes much better care of it than I do." He puts it into position and sits on the nearest stool.

Judy walks up to him. "You can play?"

"Yep," he strums the guitar, perfectly tuned. "Here's a song I wrote about a year ago."

He strums a few clean chords, then to add to it, starts singing.

She'd hear him sing in the shower, out on the street, and some other places, and he'd sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

But this time was an exception. She'd never heard anyone - any mammal, even gazelle, sing this well.

He didn't strain his voice, and the song was perfectly fit for his voice.

She heard him sing:

Judy, when I met on the you on the day,

I saw you there, and come what may,

But I had a little crush on you.

He played a short instrumental, then continued.

We worked together, to solve the case

And honestly, we put our lives at stake

And we figured it out, after a while

And it felt like I had run a mile.

I said, "you know you love me,"

And you said, "do I know that, yes I do."

I felt a bond with you, and wanted to say,

"Is it okay to kiss," but come what may,

The sloth got in our way.

I was kinda sad,

And to not feel bad,

I got distracted looking at you

And it felt like I wanted to, and knew

That you were the best

I could come with you,

Stay with you,

And that's why

I've called you my

Friend.

Nick strummed a chord after the last phrase, then played a mini guitar solo. He ended and put the guitar face up in his lap, looking at Judy.

Her eyes were welled up with tears, and she looked him in the eyes. "Nick, I underestimated you. I've heard you sing before, and not to offend you, but you sounded bad. But now..." she takes a breath. "You are honestly the best singer I've ever heard. I've heard Rat Paisley, Tim McGrowl, and Gazelle, and you're better than them. By far."

"But the words..." she continues, taking the guitar from his lap, pulls him down by the tie, and kisses him on the cheek.

She looks back at him with a smirk on her face. "I loved them."

Nick sat back up on his chair, looking around to anyone who'd seen him. Unfortunately, Jack stood in the background, looking straight at him, laughing. "Oh, brother. That's why I warned ya to never play a romantic country song around females. You'll woo all of 'em."

Nick smirks. "Wasn't expecting that reaction, though."

"Thanks again, Jack," Nick says as they exit the music store.

Judy smiles. "You know what? I feel like a date."

Nick's eyes widen. "That was literally the last thing I expected to come out of your mouth right then."

She shrugs. "Well, yes or no?"

He smirks. "Sure."

"You feel like Zihop or something?" Judy asks as she pulls into the parking lot of the establishment.

"Why not?" Nick replies with a grin.

The two enter the restaurant and are seated fairly quickly. They order after receiving drinks.

Judy takes a sip of her orange juice. "You know I'm paying for this, right?"

Nick nods. "Usually typical for the date-asker to pay for the meal."

Judy smirks. "Is this your first date?"

"Yep."

"Well, what are we supposed to do? I know there are boundries and all that other stuff."

He nods. "This may seem a bit random, but I heard your bunny families have a lot of kids."

She chuckles. "That's right. I have 275 siblings."

His eyes widen. "That is a lot of kids to take care of. Hope you didn't have just one bathroom."

She laughs. "Never had the interest to count the bathrooms. Or the time. Hotels were a mess, too. We once rented an entire Zoliday Inn Express building for a simple family vacation."

Nick laughs. "Amazing," he pauses for a moment. "Do you have any hobbies of some sort?"

She nods. "Whenever I have free time, I typically enjoy reading a good book, sitting down to a movie, listening to music, or giving hugs."

He nods. "I think the hug part is my favorite about you."

She smiles. "My favorite thing about you is your ability to sing and play the guitar."

His eys widen slightly. "That's your favorite?" He stops for a moment. "I think that comment deserves a gift."

"Well," she asks eagerly, "what is it?"

He smiles. "I thought you were the one with the patience. I'll give it to you out in the parking lot."

She grins. "That's fine with me."

The two eat their food and depart from the restaurant. Judy quickly reminds Nick of the gift.

"Oh, yeah," Nick says. "I changed my mind. Wait 'till we get back to the apartment."

"Why?" She almost yells, but she stops herself. "Sorry. What? Why?"

He smiles. "Testing your patience."

She playfully punches him in the shoulder. "That's why I like you, you sly fox."

He shrugs. "Like me all you want, but you'll have to wait 'till we get to the apartment to get that gift."

"Okay, if you want to wait until we get to my apartment, then let's go."

"That's why I like you, you dumb bunny."

Shortly after arriving at the building, Judy eagerly reminds Nick of the present awaiting her. He took his time and tells her he'll give it to her in 'a minute.'

Nearly ten minutes later, Nick stands from his bed.

"I think it's time to give you that gift. But first, I'd like to say something," he pauses. "Carrots, the way you reacted after my song surprised me. I thought I might get a polite applause, or maybe a hug. But I didn't expect a full blown emotional breakdown. I liked it, though. Now I think its appropriate to give you this gift."

He moves from the chair across the room to next to Judy on her bed. He looks into her eyes. "Judy, I'd like to confess my attraction to you. You're an incredibly beautiful bunny, and I was almost considering buying a ring to propose to you. But I couldn't afford it, nor do I think its is the right time to. But I can give you this."

He turns to her again and kisses her. He seperates quickly and blushes. "I appreciate you, Carrots."

She doesn't say anything, one reason being that she remained speechless, blushing as red as a tomato, smiling back at him. She finally has the courage to speak. "I appreciate you too, you dumb fox. But if it's okay with you, I'd like to ask something. I'm not mad or disappointed. I'm just asking a question: Why don't you think its the right time to propose?"

"For one," he begins, "I don't think it's appropriate since we've been on only one date. I also lacked the money to afford it. I love you, Judy, but we're not far enough in our relationship for either one of us to propose."

"It's okay," she gives him a warm embrace. "That's enough for me right now."

* * *

 **Hello, guys, CrazyWriter here. I thank anybody who has read this chapter. The next chapter will be written within the time period of one day and two months from the time the previous chapter is written.** **If you want to give me suggestions, please do so, and anybody who also wants to ask me a question, wants me to add something to this current chapter, wants to suggest something for a future chapter, please PM me or send me an email (address is in my profile) and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Any constructive criticism is appreciated, but please try to avoid flares, as they will not be tolerated and will be immediately removed/reported. Thank you for your cooperation.**


	4. Help

**Chapter 4 - Help**

The small apartment, shared by Nick and Judy, featured a pattered floor with months of usage, a rickety bed with similar age to the floor, and wallpaper, which appeared to be on the verge of tearing from scruffy living climate. Living adjacent to them were two crazy neighbors whose names Judy had not acquired yet. The new orange curtains that hung from the curtain pole above the window appeared out of place compared to the older style of the other items of furniture in the room. The small bed remained Judy's property, and a messily folded sleeping bag, stuffed in the corner, remained Nick's property. The room smelled of residence: the faint odor of the shower that was used that morning, and the occasional scent of Nick's cologne that sat, opened, on the bedside table. Joining it was a large, empty plastic cup that emitted a scent of cola and still had partially eaten stained ice at the bottom of the cup that had almost melted. A pizza box containing nothing but crumbs and grease stains lay opened on the bed and contributed to their dinner that evening. The sheets of the bed were loosely folded and wrinkled from continued use, and Judy's pink pillow lay atop. The slow, heaving patter of footsteps echoed to the rooms below. "Why are you doing this?" Nick sighs, his face curled into a series of pattern that resembled resentment. His large feet lugged along the coarse floor, and anyone could see they were under strain. Judy sat on his shoulders, her hands firmly fixed around the anterior side of his head. She would occasionally giggle in excitement when he playfully bounced her up and down. This playfulness had died down, but he had not completely stopped, but now just rarely bouncing her lightly. She now didn't seem to acknowledge it when he performed as such. He had been trudging in continued circles around the apartment for over two hours, and she never seemed to tire. The incessant movement tired him, ached his shoulders, and drained his energy to a point to almost sneak Judy's half-finished pizza from the paper plate adjacent to the pizza box. He could imagine it now: He would take the cold, unfinished pizza off the plate and chew it thoughtfully, ignoring the cold texture of the delicious meal.

He had done nothing wrong; she simply walked up to him, asked for a ride, and hadn't gotten off since. "Because it's fun," she replies, her arms still joined around Nick's forehead. "But I _am_ willing to get down if you give me a logical explanation."

Nick and logical are two things that don't mix well. To have him come up with a logical explanation is about as impossible as having a homeless mammal pay to stay at the Grand Suite Hotel in Savannah Central. "Well, a logical explanation? I can't really do _that_. But I can say this: If you get off, right now, I will _personally_ buy us a ticket to see Gazelle next weekend."

"That's not a logical explanation, but you won," she extends both arms from her sides. "Now help me off." Nick's large paws thrust under Judy's underarms and carefully transport the bunny to the ground.

"Is that better?" Nick says. "Or would Ms. 'I want everything' want something else?" He curls his fingers into quotes on the side of his head.

"Yes," she smiles, catching on to his teasing. "I, Ms. Everything, would like a thousand dollars."

Nick spins around on his heel, his back facing his girlfriend. He turned his head to glance at her, but his back remained facing her. "You didn't say from me. Wait till your bonus next week."

"There _is_ no bonus next week." She corrected, her hands on her hips.

"Exactly the _point_ ," he says, his tail disappearing behind the bathroom door.

He returned a minute later, pulling his green Hawaiian shirt out from under the waistline of his beltless tan pants and smooths it out with the back of his hand. His hands move to his opaque red tie and quickly realign it to the base of his collar, leaving a small space between the top of the shirt and the knot. "Well? What's new?"

She looks up from the cellular device in her paw. "I have one million followers on Tweeter."

" _Very_ funny," Nick says, planting himself to the right of where Judy sat. "You don't even _have_ Tweeter."

She curls her mouth into a smile and places her right paw over her left, where her right was grasped onto the phone. She laughs. "You're right on that note."

Judy caught his boyfriend's attention when she turned off her phone. "It's late." She weaves her fingers in between Nick's paw, loosely laid over his left thigh. Shortly after she raises her paw, weaved between Nick's, and quickly raises it in the air, letting gravity take over and letting both of their hands fall back in between the two mammals.

He laughed at her seriousness and poor word choice. "Oh, _c'mon_. It's only, like, eight."

"Actually," she snapped on the little screen on her device and quickly glances at it. "It's _ten_." She turned it off again and threw it face down onto the bed.

He snatched the phone from the spot she had set her phone down. "I stand corrected," He says after emulating her actions and returns it to its previous location. He faces her with a smirk. "You were right. Ten-o-eight. Let's go to bed."

* * *

"Nick,"

His eyes snapped open at the sound of his name. "What?" He shut them again, the bright sun being almost new to his eyes after ten hours of darkness. "Hey," she curves her mouth into a frown, with her palms planted on his tense shoulders. "Get up. It's 8:15." She used her weight to move him back and forth, almost falling on top of him. She plants her knees on separate sides of his hips and retries. "Get _up_."

"8:15?" He says vaguely, looking at Judy blankly. "Are we late?" He traces one of his eyes with his fingertips and yawns. He rolls onto his left side and stretches his right arm over his right temple, stretching his legs away from his pelvis. He returns his arm to his head and cradles both paws under his left temple, supporting his head on the pillow. "Just ten more minutes."

"No, we're late," she yells, pulling his arm, unsuccessful at lifting him. "C'mon," she tries again. "Let's. Go. _Now_." She says, pausing in between each word.

He sits up after his arm begins to ache. "There's a fine line between being responsible and being annoying," he mutters, flipping onto his back. "And you just passed it." After he yawns again, he swings his legs to the side of the bed and cautiously steps down onto the hardwood floor. He stretches his arms above his head and smacks his lips together to make a sound like a ketchup bottle that is almost empty. He steps to the bedside table and gathers his uniform and retreats to the bathroom to change.

After ten minutes, Judy, fed up, knocks profusely on the bathroom door. "Why are you taking so long?" She stretches both arms above her head and lay them on the door.

" I'm shaving," he calls. "And stop being so impatient."

"Well, are you done yet?" She moves her hand to the door handle and attempts to open it, finding it locked. "Can you _please_ get out here?"

"I don't want to go to work with a half-shaven face, would I?"

"Nick." she retorted, planting her shoulder blades back onto the wall adjacent to the door.

Ten additional minutes pass, and he emerges from the bathroom. Judy lugs him outside, shoves him into the police cruiser and snaps on the engine. She pulls out and starts to the road ahead.

The ride went well until the third light on their journey came into view. Judy saw the yellow light and started off quickly to attempt to pass it. "She's not gonna make it," Nick mutters more to himself than to her. "No, she's not." He says as they approach the intersection.

The light flashed red before the front two tires passed the pedestrian crossing. Judy slammed on the brakes, throwing him to the dashboard. Another car on a separate road, to the right of where Nick and Judy's car crossed the intersection ran directly past the pedestrian crossing on a green light and collided with the passenger's side of Nick and Judy's police cruiser. Both cars proceeded to skid toward the road to the left of Nick and Judy's cruiser and destination of the car that unintentionally ran into them. After ramming into the pole supporting the traffic light, the police car tipped onto the roof and rocked until gravity took over and stood still. After the dust settled, the driver of the other car, the same species of Nick, walked up to the demolished police cruiser. "Anyone in there?" The driver picked at the wreckage and inspected for survivors.

" _Help_ ," Nick groaned, rubbing his forehead. Judy answered with a "yes".

The driver managed to rescue Nick, who sustained a ghastly bump to his forehead and a few visible bleeding cuts on his arms, and managed to rescue Judy, who sustained a large cut on her forehead and a large gash on the top portion of her right arm. "Thank you," Judy said with a smile, inspecting the police cruiser. There was a significant dent sustained to the right side of their police cruiser. "Oh, Bogo's gonna _kill_ me," she says, palming her face. "What's this gonna cost? I don't _know_!" She gestures to Nick. "And with you not able to help pay, I don't know what I should do..."

"Carrots," Nick says with a smile, waving the driver of the other car away. "I lied to you." His face falls and a bead of sweat trails down his nose.

"What do you mean?" She asks, her nose twitching with interest. Her eyes widen in anticipation.

"Well," he moves his paw to the back of his head and rubs it with the tips of his fingers. "Remember how I said I was bankrupt and have to stay with you?" He grimaces and shuts his eyes when he finds a spot of pain and lightly massages it.

"Yes."

He moves his paw to his forehead and runs his fingers up along it. "I'm _not_ bankrupt." He retreats his fingers from his forehead and glanced at his blood-stained paw. When an answer did not come, he resumed. "I lied. I _wanted_ to stay with you. I felt lonely. I felt... _discouraged_." He looks down at the asphalt and attempts to dig his foot into the ground. After a moment, he looks up. "I needed you. I _still_ need you. So, I can help if you need."

"Oh, Nick," she gasps, surrendering her head to his chest. "I - I don't know how I should feel. I feel... _confused_." She moves her right paw to his chest and moves it in small circles around his sternum. "A part of me wants to be angry at you, but another part is just depressed. I don't know what to do." She drops her arm to her side.

"I don't know what to do, either." He wraps his right arm around the back of Judy's head. He pulls his arm back and decides on rubbing the back of her neck. After a moment, he backs up. "I don't want to be filed for PDA."

"Wasn't thinking of that, but that is a good idea," she laughs, looking directly at the approaching car. It runs down the side of the road until slowing and stopping where Nick and Judy stood. The window lowered, and sitting in the driver's seat was Bogo. He wore a large blue business shirt and a black tie, the top button unbuttoned. His left arm rested on the side of the car, reaching out the window; while his other firmly gripped the steering wheel. "Wilde," he says firmly, his eyes fixed on him. His eyes dart to Judy. "Hopps. Both of you, get in."

The two mammals enter the large vehicle. The seats were finished with a high-quality material, and the floor done with high-quality carpet. After the two sit, Bogo resumes his journey to his destination. "I was just on the way when an anonymous caller called in and said you both were involved in an accident."

"So where are you taking us?" Nick replies.

"You'll see," Bogo says, his eyes still fixed on the road. "Who was driving?" His eyes glanced at the rearview mirror. Nick aimed his index finger at Judy. Bogo frowned and returned his eyes to the road. "I wouldn't have expected _you_ to crash, Hopps. But accidents happen."

Nick kept his paws in his lap and Judy emulates his actions. After a moment, he looks up. "What's going to happen to that car?"

"The team is already on it," Chief Bogo replies, his right arm stretched across the top of the passenger's seat. "And it will be taken to the local mechanic to be fixed up."

"And," Judy intervenes, gesturing the air. "I assume this means that we both have to _contribute_ to the cost."

"Since I ruled it an accident, I will only permit you both to paying twenty percent. That's _eight-thousand dollars_."

Nick and Judy exchange glances and Nick looks nervously up at the chief. "When's this..." he swallows. "Sum of money due?"

"In a month." He says, pulling into the parking lot of a large brick building. He shuts off the engine and opens his door.

Without a word, the two follow Bogo into the building. The interior was much more defined: a large tile floor, clean white walls, blue waiting chairs with a few occupied by waiting occupants, and secretaries stationed at two separate desks with small lines of mammals anterior to each. After a minute, a fox - wearing a white shirt and pants, pulls Nick into room, while a rabbit dressed in similar clothing leads Judy into a separate room.

The room Nick entered contained a flat, desk-like chair, with a black cushion, and a long piece of paper laid smooth over it. Connected to the paper was a spool of even more paper, wound up on a stand above the furniture. A counter with a sink, a jar of cotton balls, and a sealed jar of tongue compressors stood against the white wall.

"Good morning, Mr. Wilde," the fox says, shaking Nick's limp paw. "I'm Dr. Sean. I'm here to examine you under order of your boss."

Nick nods. "So, what do I do?"

"Well, we've got to check you for any injuries other than the ones sustained to your head and arms. So, I ask that you remove your pants."

After following the doctor's instruction, Nick sat on the black cushioned examination chair and the doctor carefully examined his thighs, ankles, feet and lower legs. The doctor examined the other limbs of his body, then took a blood pressure reading, a heart reading and lung reading with a stethoscope, and checked reflexed. Receiving instruction, Nick pulled his pants back up to his waist and applied the buckle. Dr. Sean patched up a few cuts that were still bleeding.

"Okay," Dr. Sean concluded, standing from his chair and removing his gloves from his paws. "From what I have examined, you have sustained no broken limbs. You only sustained two skin-deep cuts on your right and left forearms, a minor bruise to your right thigh, and a mild bump to your forehead."

Dr. Sean lead Nick out the room, where Nick found Judy sitting in the blue seat, her paw grasped around her phone. She had a large white patch on her forehead, another on the back of her neck and a splint on her left index finger.

After the checkup and leaving the building, Nick complained of being nauseous shortly into the ride returning to the police station. Chief Bogo volunteered to drive back, but Judy ignored it, as Nick knew it would pass.

"Good morning," Bogo says firmly to the group of officers before him, but they remained negligent to his instruction. "Shut it!"

Silence takes over. After a moment of speaking without interruption he continues. "This morning, two of our officers experienced an accident on the corner of -"

"Ughhh."

At the sound of the guttural noise, Bogo pauses. Heads turn to the source of the sound. "Alright, who was that?" Bogo grunts, frowning.

Nick, who clutched his abdomen in pain, struck his hand weakly into the air. His eyes drooped and he was beginning to salivate. "Hopps, take him out, please. Wolfard."

The wolf officer lifts his head from the table. "Go get Wilde to a hospital. Pronto." Bogo says, his eyes widened in worry. Wolfard caught up to Judy, who assisted holding Nick upright. Officer Wolfard took over and assisted with the fireman's carry on Nick with Judy. After running outside, Wolfard calls an ambulance.

Shortly following the 911 call, Nick had a blank stare at the cement pavement. His eyes remained widened, and shortly after yelled and pain, grasped his abdomen, and forcefully threw up onto the cement pavement. She glanced away for a moment and forced herself to ignore the guttural noises emitting from Nick's throat. She didn't dare come near him.

All she could do was watch her friend, standing on the edge of the pavement, his lips curled in disgust, mouth wide open and still dryly coughing. He groaned and tried to empty his stomach again, for it was completely empty. He instead achieved a mass of saliva and remnants of stomach acid in his mouth in a mass of liquid to unevenly stream from his lips and land on the pavement.

* * *

 **Hello, guys, CrazyWriter here. I thank anybody who has read this chapter. The next chapter will be written within the time period of one day and two months from the time the previous chapter is written. If you want to give me suggestions, please do so, and anybody who also wants to ask me a question, wants me to add something to this current chapter, wants to suggest something for a future chapter, please PM me or send me an email (address is in my profile) and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Any constructive criticism is appreciated, but please try to avoid flares, as they will not be tolerated and will be immediately removed/reported. Thank you for your cooperation.**


	5. Not Now

**Chapter 5 - Not Now**

The twelve foot, four-inch length interior resembled a bedroom: clean, white walls, a neatly swept floor, and a professionally tended bed, housing the patient. The only significant difference was that the room was moving, on wheels, over eighty miles an hour on the freeway. The interior housed only three persons: Judy Hopps, an on-call nurse, and Nick himself, groaning in pain, which the medical customs had regarded him as the patient. His two paws lay firmly over his bottom right abdomen, and Judy's lay on top of his. She considered him the way a hawk watches its food. She wanted to cry, or scream, or throw something in anger, but instead resolved the issue in squeezing Nick's paw the way a homeless mammal would hold two-hundred-thousand dollars.

Miles away from their destination, the nurse looks nervously at the driver, then back at her patient, then back at the driver. It was as if she had to make a life-changing decision. She had suspected a common illness with her patient, but couldn't decide until he had received proper diagnosis.

Nick's eyes were blank, excepting his green irises in the center of them. His mouth was still, and trailing from it was a light stain of fluid from his stomach he had vomited earlier. Judy's head now laid atop Nick's chest, and she wept like her she was at her grandma's funeral three years earlier. Her grandma, named Nancie, had died of hemorrhagic stroke two days prior to the funeral.

Execution of treatment became unattainable due to the quick efforts to stabilize the patient, as it would be more sanitary and more efficient in the local emergency room. The blaring from the vehicle signaled the drivers of vehicles ahead of the speeding vehicle to dodge them as the drivers of their car increased the speed of the vehicle by twenty miles an hour. The driver of the vehicle, his forename Rick, or "Speedy" to his coworkers, kept his eyes focused on the asphalt in front of them. His paws grasped firmly on the smooth surface of the steering wheel. The assistant and passenger of the cabin, who sat emotionless next to Rick, glanced into the back of the cabin, and quickly glanced back. Voices emitted from the receiver on the dashboard, and the passenger quickly held it to his ear.

"This is Unit 770 to ZGH. ETA of 7, over. Do you copy?" The passenger said.

"ZGH to Unit 770. Status?" The voice of the operator replied briefly.

"Patient in critical condition, but stable. Experiencing dexter gastropelvic pain, over."

"Any other symptoms?"

"Just a moment," the assistant covers the speaker with his paw and glances into the back of the cabin. He pulls up another radio and speaks into it. "This is Emmitt, over."

"Charlotte, over. What do you need?"

"Symptoms on patient excluding the dexter gastropelvic pain."

"Vomiting, nausea, and mild fever is what I have been informed, over."

"Thank you, over," he hangs up and returns his mouth to the other receiver, and conveys the previous information. "Over."

"Understood, over. ETA?"

"Five, over."

"Okay, over. Over and out."

"Over and out."

After a moment, Rick kept his eyes on the road, but moved his mouth towards his assistant. "What do you suspect?"

"I can't say. Colonic intussusception, or renal failure."

"Or maybe PID."

Emmitt looked at Rick like he had just thrown his lunch out the window. "That only occurs in females, you idiot!"

Rick threw his hand into his face. "That's right," he laughed awkwardly at himself. "How did I enter medical school? Maybe that's why I became an ambulance driver." He gestured to the steering wheel with his free paw.

"Serves you right," Emmitt flashed a sly grin, and looked back at Rick, who had straightened his mouth back into a frown. "Didn't you say you wanted to be a taxi driver?"

"Yes," Rick smiled again. "I wanted to take people wherever they wanted."

"Kind of ironic, isn't it?"

"Now that I think about it," Rick laughs. "I could agree with you." He quickly takes a left off the freeway and pulls into the hospital parking lot. He takes a sharp left and turns into the emergency lot. He stops at the curb.

A team of two doctors jump to the scene and transport the miserable patient through the doors, on the wheeled stretcher, to one of the prepared available rooms. One of the doctors, who had assisted in transporting his patient, looked at the blank face of him. He moved over, slowly, and spoke softly. "Do you mind if I assess you?"

Nick looked up, blankly, and nodded. The doctor carefully examined Nick, then spoke again. "I heard you had some pain. Where is it?"  
Nick weakly lifted his right paw, outstretched his index finger, and traced the bottom right of his abdomen, three inches from the vertical midline.

The doctor's eyes widened slightly, and ducked out of the room and caught one of the EMTs just leaving. "What were the symptoms?"

"Dexter gastropelvic pain, nausea, vomiting, and a mild fever."

The doctor retreated to the room and looked over his patient again, then looked at his assistant. "John, refer him to a CT scan, stat."

Nick opened his eyes for the first time for a while. It was like a dream: a large, conspicuous room, with glistening tiles and a beautiful sun illuminating it. Machines stood motionless beside him, and wires emerging from them connected to his wrists. Positioned next to his bed was a blue chair, and positioned in it was Judy, her eyes closed. She exhaled louder than normal, and she wore a blue top and a pair of jeans. Her legs lay crossed, one over the other, and her arms draped in the same pattern over her right knee.

A jolt of pain, right where his pain was earlier that day, returned. Except that over the spot was a large bandage. There, and over on his navel, and another next to the original bandage.

Surgery.

Something went wrong that shouldn't've. Something faulted in his body, and doctors had to fix it for him. With surgery. Something happened that shouldn't've. And that was why he was feeling the way he was. But he didn't know what it was.

Nothing could come to his mind. It was as if the anesthetic they had given him extinguished his mood, his personality, his everything. The only thing that he could imagine was how he got here in the first place. And he had no idea.

A doctor strolled in, smiling. "Glad to see you awake," he spoke loudly, and after seeing Judy stir, he lowered his voice. "Sorry. Anyway, surgery went well. They removed your appendix with success."

Appendix. The sworn enemy.

"Wait," for the first time in forever, he spoke. "I had appendicitis?"

"Yes, you did, in fact. We caught it just in time. Any longer and it would have burst."

"I got a question," Nick asked, lifting his shirt again. "Why are there multiple bandages on there? Shouldn't there just be one?"

"Good question," the doctor smiled. "Approximately... 110 years ago - yes - the first laparoscopic surgery was performed. That is a procedure in which we insert sharp instruments into the abdomen, distended with carbon dioxide, and we use them to perform surgery. Recovery time is nearly cut in half, compared to open appendectomy."

"That's nice," Nick says, looking over at Judy. Looking back at the doctor again, he stares at his stomach. "Were you going to do something?"

"Oh, yes," he jumps a little, and eases toward Nick. He extends both his paws and frowns. "Just was going to examine those incisions. Do you mind?"

"Oh, not at all. Be my guest," Nick responds, lifting his arms as if he was surrendering. After a moment, when the doctor touches one of the incisions with his gloved paw, Nick shuts his eyes and groans. "That hurt."

"Oh, sorry. Just had to push on it a little," he ungloves his paws and holds both gloves in his right paw. "You're responding well."

"That's good to hear. Now, do you mind if I you get me some lunch? I'm starving."

"Before we do that," he leans over to him. "I must check your gastrointestinal sounds to see if they are responding properly," he places the stethoscope over Nick's abdomen and moves it around, then releases. "Normal colonic and intestinal sounds, and you're good to go. We can try the food now, but just be sure to try the water first," the doctor walks over to Nick's bedside and pushes a red button next to a speaker. "Appendectomy patient requesting food." He quickly departs the room to assess the next event on his schedule.

A few moments later, a nurse dressed in bright white enters the room with a large tray of assorted foods. She straps it to the bars of the bed and suspends it above Nick's waist. "There you go, hon. Just holler if you need anything else."

"Now," Nick says, the large tray of food staring back at him as if it was alive. "How do I eat this?"

"I can help."

Nick glanced over to the source of the sound. Judy had her eyes open, purple irises glistening like rubies, and she flashed a clean smile.

"Why not?" Nick replies, thrusting one paw, forefinger addressing the other side of the room. "There's a nurse chair there."

"Oh, okay," she does as such, and sits next to him. She could see his face much more defined now. More depressed, but lively simultaneously. His green eyes resembled green tree leaves. His smile looked handsome to her.

"Carrots?"

Judy shook her head rapidly. "Sorry. Just haven't seen you in a while."

"I can tell," he chuckles. "Eventually, I won't be able to tell. So, are you going to feed me or not?"

"You never told me what you felt like. But, since you didn't ask, let's try some ice water first, since the doctor said so. Just to be sure your stomach is through the torture."

"I'm pretty sure I can do this one myself," he takes the cup from Judy, and slowly sucks the liquid from the blue straw. He closes his eyes, slowly embracing the refreshing quality of the natural beverage. After a moment, he removes the straw from his mouth and exhales, making the "ahhh" sound. He moves both hands to the side of him and looks blankly at the wall after setting the cup on the bedside table. "I'm okay," he moves his hands back to his lap. "I think it's time for something that resembles food – gelatin."

"That's a good choice," she holds the spoon up to his mouth, but retreats it a few inches. "But don't you hate gelatin?"

"Kind of, it's just the texture. The gelatin is made from - what, is it fish fat and bones?"

"Yes," she takes a bite of it herself. "And it's the only thing close to what us prey eat that is close to the food of predators," she winces and obtains another scoop of the gelatinous material. "That's kind of gross. It's flavorless."

"Well, then don't feed it to me!" He grins, chuckling, and extends his hand to refuse the food. "Get me something else."

"There's these - what are these?" She holds the unopened cardboard box up to her face and shakes it lightly. "Priscuit?"

"Oh," he grimaces and shakes his head. "Those things taste like dirt."

"What are they made of?" She turns the box over and gasps. "Grass? And wheat, dandelion, chickweed, plantain, wild onion, violets, wood sorrel, henbit, clover, dead-nettle, and sow thistle? What?"

"I don't want those," he gags. "Is there anything that resembles edible food?"

"Um," she scans the table with her paw, picking at the boxes and covered platters. "There's salad here."

"Why not?" He frowns and takes the platter of vegetables Judy hands to him. "Spinach, carrots, lettuce, tomato," he shakes his head. "I'm not a fan of any of 'em - except the Carrots. The Carrots I love to all eternity."  
"Ah, Nick," she blushes, then her face falls. "So, you've decided to starve?"

"Is salad my only choice of food?"

She turns back to the table. "Wheat crackers. Zritz."

"That's a huge box," he says as he takes the box from her and rips it open. He takes one of the circular crackers and inserts it into his mouth, chews, and sends the food into his throat. "Good," after a moment, he gently lays both arms on the rails of the bed. Quickly, his eyes widen, and he closes his eyes. "Nausea's striking. Hopefully it's normal - but I need you to do something."

"Yes?"

"Get me to that bathroom. Now."

As quickly as her little bunny legs could keep up, she drags the fox out of the bed, and just in time makes it to the bathroom. Judy closes her eyes and stands outside the wooden door of the bathroom, just as the doctor walks in.

The doctor looks at her, then at the empty bed. "Where is he?"

"In here," she motions to the door with her head. "Got some sudden nausea, that's all. I'm just worried that he's not okay."

"Don't worry, Ms. Hopps," he says with a smile. "We call that PONV, or postoperative nausea and vomiting, a side effect of 30% of patients who are anesthetized. Only if he's not throwing up blood or bile, he's completely fine. Just tell him to wash his mouth -" he opens his coat and pulls out a bottle. "Here's some emesis wash that was just approved by the FDZ," he hands it to Judy. "Anyway, tell him to gargle with approximately a tablespoon. We just don't want extended tooth decay by hydrochloric acid."

"Well, thanks. I'll call someone in if I see anything wrong – wait."

The doctor looks back at her and smiles. "Yes?"

"What's bile?"

"Oh, yes. I meant to inform you of that – it's a green-yellow liquid the liver makes. Sometimes bile backs up into the stomach and vomited. Just be sure his throw-up doesn't resemble the color of grass or coffee grounds."

"Thanks," She opens the door to the bathroom and looks at the sick fox. "Are you okay now?"

"Y-" He responded, but the doctor cut in, calling for Judy.

"Oh, sorry," Judy sneaks out of the room to the doctor. "Yes?"

"I was just wondering; did he eat anything to cause this?"

"A few sips of cold water and a cracker is basically all he could choke down. Then he just developed some nausea, and told me to rush him in there."

"Good to know, Ms. Hopps. Hope you have an enjoyable day."

Without another word, Judy walks back into the bathroom. Nick supported himself by bending over the toilet with his two arms, and he coughed dryly. He stood up and frowned. "I hate doing that."

"It's okay. It's not like you're gonna die. You would have if you stayed at the ZPD any longer."

"That's true," he walks back to the bed and allows himself into it. He shakes his head at the food. "I don't even feel like talking on the subject of food," he says, looking away from it. He smacks his lips and groans. "My mouth tastes horrible."

"I can help with that," she pulls out the bottle of emetic wash. "The doctor called this 'emetic wash'. He said to gurgle a tablespoon, and it should take away the taste."

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to try - hey, do you have a basin or something I could spit this in?"

"Here's a tin thing," she hands the kidney-shaped basin to him. "I've seen these before - I just can't pinpoint the name."

"Well, it's something to spit in. Good enough." He gurgles an estimated tablespoon of the substance, spits it into the basin, and hands the bottle back to her. "Go set that somewhere. I can guarantee you I'll need it again."

She scoffs and moves the basin away from her. He smiles at her, then laughs. "Do you know what I would like, right now?"

"A nice massage, an extra-strong caramel frappe, and a hundred dollars. Geez, I don't know! I'm not psychic."

"I want a hug from the -"

"Stop right there," she frowns. "Don't say that c word."

"Don't worry," he manages to cradle one paw under her chin. "I was going to go with beautiful, but good to know." He grins.

Her eyes become saucers and she blushes. With a crooked smile, she moves lightly into her boyfriend's arms and embraces him. He strokes one of her ears with his paw, and she does the same with his ear.

Deep down, he wanted to pull out a ring and propose to her, without delay.

Not now, Nick, he thought to himself.

* * *

 **Hello, guys, CrazyWriter here. I thank anybody who has read this chapter. The next chapter will be written within the period of one week and three months from the time the previous chapter is written. If you want to suggest ideas, please do so, and anybody who also wants to ask me a question or wants me to add something to this current chapter, please PM me or send me an email (address is in my profile) and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Any constructive criticism is appreciated, but please try to avoid flares, as they will not be tolerated and will be immediately removed/reported. Thank you for your cooperation.**


	6. Assumptions

***PLEASE READ THE CONCLUDING PARAGRAPH ON THE AUTHOR'S NOTE, LOCATED BELOW THIS STORY.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6 – Assumptions**

For the past two days, an orange-furred figure, tall and slender, lay bedridden, concealed by a red linen blanket. He fixed his eyes on the television screen, which broadcasted the previous night's football game. He couldn't decide whether to stay in the blanket or throw it from him - he couldn't make out the temperature of the room. It seemed as if the temperature would change from hot to cold at inconvenient times. He would occasionally run his paw, cold and unused, over his sweltering, perspiring forehead. He had a temperature gauge hanging from his mouth, and the reading gradually increased.

Postoperative care at home advanced as planned. All that remained from the postoperative symptoms were of the minor flu, typical following the surgery, because of an autoimmune response due to the removal of a useless organ. An antipyretic and an antiemetic, prescribed by his doctor, paired together in dull orange bottles.

Judy strolled into the room. She casually approached the fox as a quarantine specialist would approach a bucket of radioactive material. Gradually, she performed each action, and slid the temperature gauge from his mouth, careful not to touch the end that had contacted his saliva. For a moment, she stared at the gauge, but did not apprehend it. After a moment, she muttered "106" and slid the sensory end of the gauge, the part that had contacted his mouth, back into the plastic cover. She set it next to his untouched glass of water, and with even greater cautious movements, apprehended his frontal temperature.

With careful consideration, she caught his attention with a small guttural noise. When his eyes, glossy and quiet, met her, she smiled minimally. "I think you should take the doctor's advice. Your fever is running high."

"Remember, Carrots," he muttered, coughing. "Remember a fox's optimum temperature."

"I know," she whispered, gently patting a patch of fur exposed on his head, unsuccessfully attempting to compromise it. "But how about we take his advice?"

"There is a small, minimal problem with this..." he whispered, coughing again. "I probably shouldn't be given a bath by until marriage."

"Nonsense," she opposed. "And I wasn't implying that I would bathe you the way you would do it yourself. A bathing suit is called a bathing suit for a reason."

"Why do I have you with me?" He muttered happily. He slowly, but surely, moved from the couch and planted his feet on the cold carpet. He shifted his weight, instinctively, to stand, and slowly strolled away. After a moment, he stopped at the staircase. "This staircase looks a lot bigger than I imagined," he began the strenuous ascent, using the wooden rail for support. Judy ascended a faster pace and quickly met up with him, clenching her paw around his right paw, hanging unused on his side. "Aren't you going to get sick or something?"

She laughs. "No, silly. Your body is just becoming confused because you had something removed. The only reason you're running a 5-degree fever is because your body thinks there's a foreign invader in there," she taps his forehead, still warm. "Now let's go run you that bath."

After what seemed like a five-minute ascent at Nick's pace, Judy waited patiently at the left of Nick's closed door. Slowly, the door swung open and Nick stood in the doorway, shirtless, only wearing a pair of blue swim trunks. He smiled, as Judy reached for his paw and took it. Judy led him into the larger bathroom and shut the door with a small shove. She quickly turned the tap on and ran warm-cold water, and ten minutes of filling later invited him into the tub. He gradually waddled over and stepped in, laying himself down in the water. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and dabbled his face with the cool water. Judy, with a clean rag in one paw, stuck it in the water and began dabbing his forehead with it. At contact, Nick lowered his paws into the abyss of water and lay as if he was falling asleep. "Thanks for this, Carrots." He said gratefully.

"No need to thank me," she said, laying the towel over his neck and rubbing her paws together to remove the water that had spread. She wiped them on a towel and set it down. "You deserved it."

"Not only do I have a fever, a bath of cool water is contradicting me, I'm wearing swim trunks, and I'm talking to my girlfriend giving me said bath. Best time of my life compared to, say... everything else." He let a toothy grin spread across his face as she began dampening his ears with the soaking rag.

After he had stayed in the tub of water for over a half an hour and finishing ablutions, even though comfortable, began aspiring from the water. "I think I'm done," he said, looking at Judy. "Can I get out now?"

She took the dry towel in her hand and wiped off the water on his forehead, placing her paw over it. She curved her eyebrows in confusion and tried again. "Can't tell. Let me get the thermometer."

She measured his temperature, and with a firm 101.9 reading on it, allowed Nick to depart from the satisfying confinement. She took a towel and surrounded his waist with it. She allowed him to dry himself, but carefully studied the technique. "I can see why it is so difficult to independently dry your fur," she laughs as his struggle. "Let me help."

Refusing, he shook his head and tore the towel from her reach. She laughed as she watched him conclude the drying process. He strolled from the room and Judy followed, and stopped as soon as he gently closed his bedroom door behind him. He emerged with a black t-shirt and a pair of red sweatpants. He descended the staircase, unassisted, and returned to his original origin of stay. Judy slowed her pace and she again approached him. "So, how was the bath?"

"Good," he admitted. "Even though I sat in a pool of freezing water, it did feel nice to contradict my fever."

"Well, your fever has gone down significantly," she said, smiling. "I'm glad my Nick is getting better." She examined the tray table and gasped. "When did you last drink water?"

"Two hours ago," he confessed, flashing a fake smile. "Is that bad?"

"Well, it also could explain the fever," she logically concluded. "Why don't you drink it?" She put a straw in the cold beverage and held it to his lips. He slowly sipped the cold beverage, but shook his head lightly and shoved it away. "It tastes like drinking contaminated pond water. Is there anything else?"

"Apple juice?" She asked, standing.

"Sure," he agreed, closing his eyes. "Sounds good."

She sighed and delivered him a cup of golden liquid, again holding it to his lips. This time, he conquered the entire glass. "Now that isn't contaminated pond water."

A moment later, after Judy rolled her eyes, the door emitted a soft pounding. Judy, confused, walked over, and unlatched the door, swinging it open.

One thing neither mammal in the house had noticed is that a storm was beginning to pick up. Rain poured from the sky like rocks, and wind whooshed through the countryside like an airplane through jet stream. The houses roared as the wind passed over them. A tree next to the house across the street swayed.

Standing in the doorway was a short, adult mammal, wearing green shorts and a black dress shirt with orange stripes. He held a pair of sports sunglasses, soaking wet. His fur was matted, and he trembled, his arms crossed over his chest. He clenched his teeth and his eyebrows stood atop his eyes, indicating worry.

"Why, hello, Finnick." Judy greets, smiling.

"Why, isn't it the fuzz? I need a towel." He glances to his left, locating Nick. "Hey, Nick. Nick the Cop. Nickety-Split. How've you been doin'?"

"Finnick?" Nick whispers, his eyes meeting the fox. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I kinda got caught in that storm out there," he mutters, and Judy places a dry white towel on his shoulders, and he begins drying himself. "Anyway, I decided I should've come to the first house I saw and try to let myself in. It's a good thing it was the two of you - actually, I care more about you than Fuzz, obviously," Finnick ruffles his own matted fur on his head with the towel, places it in his grip and walks up to the sick fox. "What's with you?"

"Complications from surgery," he says, frowning. "Tell me, do I look like a three-year-old?"

"Nick," he says, frowning. "You _always_ look like a three-year-old. Now with your little red blankie and laying around like a couch potato, I could say you were a ten-year-old. Twelve. Three-year-olds are active. Clearly, you're not."

Nick rolls his eyes and returns them to the TV screen. "Move outta my way," Finnick demands, planting himself next to Nick's feet. "Move your feet," he says, waving them away. Nick nearly curls himself into a ball, and returns his eyes to the TV. After a moment, Finnick nudges Nick with his finger. "Why don't'ya sit up? We've got a great game going on." Finnick's eyes remained attached to the TV.

Nick obeyed Finnick's suggestion and sat up. He removed the blanket from himself and didn't feel cold. "Hey, Carrots, looks like that bath really _did_ held me."

Finnick, glancing at Nick, laughed profusely. "Oh, gosh. You took a bath? What the heck for?"

"Well, I was running a fever..."

Finnick chuckled. "Where's the things I taught you gone? Don't take a bath when you have a fever. Be a man and deal with it."

"Two days of dealing with it enough? And yes, I did kinda go with the things you so called 'taught' me," Nick made quotation marks with his fingers on both sides of his head. "But they didn't work. Just like your other 'teachings'. Why would I give money to someone else that I don't know?"

"You know what else doesn't work?" Finnick said, trying to contain his laughter. "You trying to take a bath to reduce your fever! You're an idiot, you know that?" He burst out in laughter once again.

"I'm not the idiot," Nick replies. "The doctor gave me that advice. If that doctor wasn't my uncle than I probably wouldn't've done anything."

"Okay, maybe I can give your uncle _some_ credit for that. But I need to know one thing - did you do it yourself?"

"Do what?"

"Get your bath! Did you do it yourself?"

"No," Nick replied firmly. "No, I didn't do it myself. I don't even have the strength-"

"Well, who was it?" He smiled.

"Who was it, what?"

Finnick frowned. "Uh, the person who gave you your bath! Who was it?"

"Judy," Nick replied instantaneously. "She gave it to me."

"Nick," Finnick faked a cry. "I think I may finally be proud of you."

"Why?"

"Well, because you finally exposed yourself to someone else. It was like yesterday, when you were mortified doing this kind of stuff."

"Are you kidding? I was in swim trunks! Why would I do that? That's the obscenest thing you've said, ever since I met you."

"You know what?" Finnick says, sighing. "Even though I look at the negative of everything, I'm gonna have to give you _some_ credit for at least allowing someone else to meet your needs."

"Well, I don't know why your exactly _proud_ of me for doing that... I would be more proud of myself for _avoiding_ that stuff and meeting my _own_ needs."

"I guess you haven't changed," he says. "Actually, maybe a little. But just a _little_. Now, can we get back to that game?"

"It wasn't me that started this unnecessary discussion."

"Actually, it _was_ you. Anyway, have any brew? I want to at least have _something_ enjoyable."

"Excuse me?"

"Brew, oil, vitamin B, sherbet..."

"What?"

He sighs. "I guess you have lost your slang terms. Do you have any _beer_?"

"No," Nick says. "I'm a police officer, so I shouldn't really have it..."

"That's right," Finnick admits. "I kinda forgot that you paired with Fuzz."

"Can you please stop calling her that?"

"Fine. Howbout Carrots? Or fluffbutt? Or-"

"How about Judy? Last time I checked, the most formal way to refer to someone is by using their real name."

"Only because I forgot it."

Nick rolled his eyes. "To conclude, I don't have any alcohol. No beer, nor tequila, nor moonshine, nor rum, nor _any_ sort of alcoholic beverage."

"S-"

"And no, we don't have any smoke, nor do we have e-cigs, weed, or addictive substances, if you exclude my medication I'm taking. And I hope you're not addicted to antiemetics or antipyretics."

"I don't know what the heck you just said in that last sentence, but no, I'm not addicted to those drugs."

"Why don't we continue with our game, instead of talking about drugs all day? If you want them, go get them. But expect me and _Judy_ to be on the scene."

"Good idea," he agrees, smiling. "Anyway, good advice. Let's watch our game."

* * *

 **Hello, guys, CrazyWriter here. I thank anybody who has read this chapter. The next chapter will be written within the period of one week and three months from the time the previous chapter is written. If you want to suggest ideas, please do so, and anybody who also wants to ask me a question or wants me to add something to this current chapter, please PM me or send me an email (address is in my profile) and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Any constructive criticism is appreciated, but please try to avoid flares, as they will not be tolerated and will be immediately removed/reported. Thank you for your cooperation.**

 **Update 3/2/17 - A new story was written, but was deemed too short. Future chapters will continue to be released upon normal schedule, but may be delayed, due to a plan of writing a novel. Thank you.**


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